


I Won't Send Roses

by brionyjae



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-02-11
Updated: 2011-07-16
Packaged: 2017-10-23 14:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/251414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brionyjae/pseuds/brionyjae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knows that Jack really does love Ianto... except Ianto. A ten part piece detailing each character's realisation of this - Ianto being the last to know, of course!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tosh

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by John Barrowman's version of 'I Won't Send Roses'.
> 
>  _And should I love you  
>  You would be  
> The last to know_

**Part I: Tosh**   
_  
I. Captain Jack Harkness   
_

Tosh wasn't stupid.

Far from it, of course – she was rightly named the Behind-The-Scenes Genius of Torchwood, the Computer Queen, the Maths Geek. Taking these titles into account, it was only natural that some might assume that Tosh would be far too absorbed in her technology to notice the goings-on of people around her – specifically, their interactions, or their emotions and feelings...

But Tosh had a secret weapon.

Tosh was, simply put, a female. And any female, even Tosh – quiet, dedicated, hard-working, sweet Tosh – could tell when two of her colleagues were acting... less than strictly professional.

Not that Tosh was surprised by such knowledge, when Jack Harkness was involved. He had collected a fair amount of titles himself, including the defining name of the Flirt. And yet, Tosh couldn't help wondering if this – this... _thing_ that she had noticed... if it was more than mere flirting.

Ever since they'd arrived back at the Hub – Jack had sent Gwen home, and sent Tosh inside while he parked the SUV – Tosh felt rather than saw Ianto's burning glances at her. When she chanced a look in return, however, his eyes were always trained on the computer screen in front of him, looking utterly fascinated in his attempt to trace Bilis Manger.

Owen, on the other hand, was busy glaring at them both, although his gaze softened when Tosh wordlessly held out her hand for the metal container that he was dumping bloodied gauze into. Amongst Owen and Ianto's bickering, she felt a tension that was entirely separate from their argument about the rift – more personal. Tosh could see it in the way Ianto's shoulders tensed – or perhaps it was the sound of Jack's footsteps that did it. Anyhow, his eyes were suddenly stuck to the computer screen with what could have been the strongest alien super glue as Jack stepped up to their platform. He was playing by the book, Tosh knew – she'd acted out a similar pretence many times herself.

"It was wartime, I know... but it was beautiful," Tosh said with a soft smile crossing her face. Mostly to deter Owen, to stop him antagonising Ianto even further.

"There were angels dancing at the Ritz." Jack passed her, concealing his face, but there was no veiling the bitter knife edge to his words. More eyes burned into her, from both Ianto and Owen this time.

"Jack –" Owen started, but Tosh interrupted.

"Let me."

Owen, predictably, watched as she followed Jack into his office, but that didn't mean anything – he was only dead curious as to what had happened. But Ianto... his eyes darted from her to his computer to Jack's office again so quickly that Tosh wondered how he could see _anything_ – and that was coming from Tosh, whose eyes could scan a computer screen faster than you could draw breath.

Oh yes, there was definitely _something_ there.

Perhaps it was just the whiskey running through her veins, but a sudden confidence rose up through her throat, bringing words with it.

"He's worried about you, you know," Tosh said casually, watching Jack innocently. Jack lowered his glass marginally, and she inwardly celebrated at the flash of surprise in his eyes, which was quickly blinked away. He didn't say anything, but turned his head to look out of the glass wall of his office.

And Ianto was caught, having just tried to sneak another glance. Tosh was silent as Jack and Ianto stared at each other, for no longer than a few seconds – and though Jack's eyes were near unreadable, his features softened ever so slightly, and the corner of his mouth was trying to quirk upwards. But then Ianto ripped his gaze away, even turning his body away to angle closer to the computer, and Jack gave a small sigh, swirling the amber liquid around in his glass.

"He was right, to shoot Owen for opening the rift."

Jack turned his bright eyes back onto Tosh, a tiny humourless smile taking hold of his lips.

"I... I don't think that it was _entirely_ about opening the rift," Tosh measured out her words, absently swirling her own whiskey now. "You know that Owen can rile people up in exactly the wrong way – well, the right way, really."

Rolling a shoulder into a shrug, Jack leant back against his desk and allowed his eyes to wander back over to Ianto. Well. Maybe 'allowed' wasn't perfectly accurate.

"Whatever. He was still right."

Both avoided the obvious objection – what if Owen hadn't opened the rift? What if Tosh and Jack were still stuck in 1941? What if, indeed.

Tosh carefully placed her own glass on Jack's desk. She sent Jack a comforting smile that she wasn't sure he noticed, and left the office. It was satisfying, Tosh had to admit, to ignore Owen's now heightened curiosity, and head straight for Ianto. She bent down so that her mouth was close to Ianto's ear.

"Go. I can monitor for Bilis."

Ianto's head now flicked around, his lips now parting in surprise. Honestly. And they thought she had no idea. If the situation hadn't been as sombre, Tosh would have giggled at the pair of them. Ianto took one more look – unconsciously, or at least unwillingly, it seemed – at Jack, who was running a hand through his hair before tipping the last of his whiskey down his throat.

"Thanks." Ianto spoke so quietly that Tosh wasn't sure he _had_ said anything – but he stood, and strode slowly across to Jack's office.

Tosh watched for a moment longer – watched Jack give Ianto a tired and slightly pained smile, watched Ianto's fingers lightly brush Jack's upper arm – before she let herself display one of her secret smiles and got settled in to find the elusive Bilis Manger.

*       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *

 _  
II. Meat   
_

As soon as Owen's gravelly voice had graced the comms – "They're armed" – Tosh knew that things were starting to go wrong. Gwen was starting to panic, Jack was doing his best to calm her down, while trying to hide his own anxiety from her and Tosh. However, it seemed that Owen was the bringer of all bad news.

"They've got Rhys and Ianto."

Tosh instinctively turned to Jack, as a follower to her leader – but for that split second after Owen's words, Jack didn't look like much of a leader. For that moment, Jack looked as old as he claimed to be, a tired shadow passing over his face.

A shadow that said _Not. Again_.

But Jack didn't have the luxury to dwell on his feelings – not like Gwen, who had spun around without thinking, forcing Jack to drag his eyes open and launch himself after her. Tosh's mouth was hanging open – what was she supposed to say? Jack's earlier words to Gwen were echoing in her mind.

 _You love him. Makes you vulnerable._

"It will be okay," Jack bit out. Sounding as though he was trying to convince himself as much as her. Holding Gwen tightly to stop her running... but also to stop himself from doing the exact same thing.

"We've got to get out, we can't help them from here," Tosh's voice was steady, gazing at the pair of them. It was Jack who shook himself out of it first, and ran to check their possible exits.

But things were rapidly going from wrong... to worse.

Ianto and Rhys were suddenly right there in front of them. With their captors, unfortunately. This time, Tosh couldn't miss it. Jack pressed himself against the wooden cartons, looking like he wanted to disappear into them. His eyelids weren't quick enough shutters to conceal a raw agony, an ancient despair that seemed impenetrable to Tosh.

It all happened too fast, after that. Gwen, being as careless with her emotions as Jack was being careful with his, gave herself up. The situation was crumbling beneath them, so it was no surprise – but no less infuriating – that she and Jack were spotted too. Holding their stun guns in the air, they slowly stepped out from behind the cartons.

Only Tosh, the closest to him, would have noticed the slight tremble that ran through Jack's body as they saw Ianto with a gun digging into his chest.

Jack was speaking – doing his leader thing – but Ianto's face was contorting with something – how could they tell the difference between concentration and fear at that moment? – and Jack stopped. So Tosh took over. It was the least she could do. Gave Jack enough time to gather his determination. To save Ianto, save them all. Again.

The gun shot... the fight... the alien, out of control... all too fast, too panicked, it was _all_ out of control... and Jack and Tosh were trapped, unable to help –

And then Owen – _her_ Owen – arriving just in time to save them all, including Rhys.

It was all over, just like that.

Tosh raised her head from where she was standing with Owen, and saw Ianto limping over to them. Owen didn't notice, of course – he was busy being... well, being a human being. That was bit harsh. Maybe _publically showing_ that he was a human being was a better way of putting it. Tosh drew some more courage and squeezed Owen's hand tighter, before focusing back on Ianto.

Ianto hadn't even reached them before Jack suddenly snapped out his daze – his sorrowful salute, a piece of last goodwill towards the creature – and hurried over to Ianto.

"You're hurt," Jack said lowly, placing his hands on either side of Ianto's waist. To an innocent observer, it could possibly be seen as Jack steadying the slumping Ianto.

Not to Tosh.

"A scratch," Ianto said roughly, his breathing heavy. He did, though, gave a wry smile, which Jack half-heartedly returned.

"That's what Mercutio once said."

Unspoken words hung in the air between them. _That's what he said before he died._

"I don't think bruises and cuts have ever killed someone, Jack."

Ianto, of course, was brushing the whole thing off, trying to reassure Jack that he was completely fine. When he clearly wasn't. Tosh could have rolled her eyes. Typical.

A scrape above Ianto's eye was dripping a trail of blood into Ianto's eye. Jack gently wiped it with his thumb, and let his hand fall to rest on Ianto's shoulder, cradling his neck. It was uncanny, Tosh thought, how utterly unreadable both Ianto and Jack's expressions were – to her at least. Jack... perhaps if you peered closely enough you might notice his jaw muscle twitching, or the unusual gleam shining his eyes. And Ianto... he had his mask in place, except there was one tiny crack, as if the cut above his eye had slashed through it – every drop of blood in his eye caused the smallest tremor to run through Ianto. Reminding him.

Tosh had to look away. The intensity, if not their expressions, held a meaning that was all too obvious, and it was far too private to intrude on. She could only hope that they could read each other's expressions better than she could.

Owen's fingers moved in hers, and Tosh momentarily forgot about Jack and Ianto, what with the spark of heat that ran from Owen to her hands to her heart. But then Owen sighed and turned, to tend to Rhys properly, now that the creature was dead. His movement seemed to alert Jack and Ianto to where they were, and Jack cleared his throat decidedly.

"Well, you certainly turned into a fighting, kicking, stunning machine today, Mr. Jones," Jack said, his drawl injected with a trace of his usual charm. "Although you already were _one_ of those things." He finished with a wink, and Tosh really did roll her eyes at that.

Completely typical.

Ianto blinked at that, and forced his mask into a dry smile.

"Well if it's alright with you, sir, I think I deserve a shower at the very least."

"Oh, definitely. I reckon I've earned one too."

Tosh let the banter wash over her – Ianto's witty retorts, Jack's dazzling grin, _Mr. Jones, sir_ – they were just part of a cover, really.

Oh yes.

Tosh knew, then.

Knew that behind the easy flirting and joking, that Jack was trying to veil what he truly felt. Knew he probably wouldn't be satisfied until he had examined every inch of Ianto's body – and in a completely non-sexual way, Tosh would bet all of her computer systems on that. Knew that what Jack held in his hands – which were still settled around Ianto's waist – was the most important thing in his life at that moment.

Tosh knew that Jack loved Ianto, no matter how he tried to hide it.

*       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *

\--End.


	2. Owen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone knows that Jack really does love Ianto... except Ianto. A ten part piece detailing each character's realisation of this - Ianto being the last to know, of course!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by John Barrowman's version of 'I Won't Send Roses'.
> 
>  _And should I love you  
>  You would be  
> The last to know_

**Part II: Owen**   
_  
I. Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang   
_

Owen wasn't stupid.

First of all, he was Dr. Owen Harper – emphasis on the Dr. It could raise anyone's opinions in a heartbeat. But he was much more than that – he was, after all, working with bloody aliens. Oh, and he got to save lives – but in this job, if he wanted to be accurate, and not at all boastful... he got to save the entire world.

Admittedly, Owen wasn't the most observant of people when it came to things like... _love_ or whatever. But he wasn't completely blind – he'd been around the block enough to know the signs of someone having sex.

And even Owen could spot the sexual tension between Jack and Ianto.

It was there, behind all of the knowing looks that Jack sent Ianto's way, thrown into the small touches that they shared. All of the things that Owen did when he was trying to pick someone up – if he could be bothered putting such an effort into it. Alcohol – or that alien spray – worked perfectly adequately. But Owen didn't really want to concern himself with the sexual politics of Torchwood – not anymore, anyway. After Suzie, after Gwen... after Diane. He didn't need all that.

And, something which went hand in hand with sex – for Owen, at least – was the bitter taste of the break up.

While Jack was gone... someone who didn't know Ianto wouldn't have noticed any changes. He still kept the place running perfectly, kept himself looking immaculate, and even picked up the tricky, extra work that Jack usually dealt with.

But Owen could see it. The whole team could. When Owen tried to slip back into their usual witty exchanges – okay, maybe it _was_ a bit of a weird way of trying to cheer Ianto up – he just knew that Ianto's heart wasn't fully in it. His dry retorts were forced, the practiced eyebrow and smile had become painful. Well, Ianto was certainly trying, but it just wasn't the same.

 _Maybe_ Owen did feel sorry for Ianto. The tiniest bit.

That, and – although he'd have to be threatened with every single alien virus he'd encountered to _ever_ admit it – Owen had developed a new respect for Ianto. When... when Diane had left, Owen had shut down. Completely. Didn't even care if he was mauled by a weevil. Was 'off', Ianto had put it rather generously. But Ianto... he kept going, kept working. Somehow.

And then Jack came back.

Sauntered back in, as if he'd never left.

His casual remark of "Hey kids, you miss me?" was thrown at them, but they were too frozen, too stunned to answer. Was it just Owen, or had Jack looked directly at Ianto, for the briefest moment, when he'd spoken? Owen watched as Ianto's work mask slipped into place immediately, a signal to them all that they still had a job to do – there was still blood covering Owen's hands.

Jack's next try at a conversation – "How did you manage without me?" – went similarly unanswered, at least with words. Owen let out a noisy breath and gave Gwen 'the look', before gathering his medical kit together. Arrogant bastard. He wasn't even doing anything useful. As if Jack could read Owen's thoughts, he stepped over to the Blowfish and raised an eyebrow at Ianto.

"Ianto. Want to help me carry this punk to the SUV?"

The air around them stumbled as Ianto flinched, his back straightening uncomfortably, and – silence. Whether Ianto didn't want to speak, or couldn't – Owen suspected a bit of both – there was no chance of Jack getting an answer. Oh, Tea-boy would owe him for this one.

Brushing past Ianto lightly, Owen made his way over to Jack and jerked his head at the Blowfish. Jack swallowed and cast his eyes down to the Blowfish's slimy, black brains staining the carpet.

Together they hauled it into the boot of the SUV, leaving a blotchy trail of black blood behind them.

There was no way in hell that Owen was letting Jack drive the SUV back to the Hub, and he was pleased to see that Gwen was being equally as stubborn in refusing to give up her front seat. Owen caught Ianto's eye, could sense the silent thanks being sent to him, and he gave him a short nod in return. Ianto then went on to plead with Tosh, using a series of complicated hand gestures – and his eyes really could be very puppy like – for her to sit between him and Jack. He must have won her over eventually, because Owen found himself staring at Jack through his rear vision mirror, sitting in the back seat behind him in the SUV, next to Tosh.

Jack wasn't returning his gaze, however. His eyes were continually flicking to his left, over the shorter Tosh – where Ianto was just as steadily ignoring him. Owen smirked quietly at Ianto's silent treatment, but somehow, it wasn't as sweet a victory as it should have been. Jack had completely lost his earlier arrogant swagger, which should be a good thing, but it was Jack that they were talking about – and a passive Jack was completely disconcerting. It had been snatched away from him, as quickly as the life had been snatched from the snarky Blowfish, and seemed to have left Jack in a pool of sinking realisation. All over a little lovers' tiff.

Owen couldn't miss the slight worrying of his bottom lip, or the flash of desperation in Jack's eyes before he finally turned himself away from Ianto. For the briefest moment, Jack penetrated Owen with a stare that was utterly unreadable – because honestly, when had Jack ever looked _that_ anxious? – before he simply turned to look out the window.

Pure genius, really.

It was then that Owen vowed to try to be nicer to Ianto – because anyone who brought Captain Jack Harkness down that quickly without even saying anything was someone worth keeping around. That, and he was less likely to be put onto decaf.

What Jack didn't see was Ianto's reactions – albeit, he was a lot more subtle. Under the pretence of looking at Tosh's portable Rift Monitor, Ianto let his eyes wander over to Jack, showing even less in his expression than Jack. Owen rolled his eyes. God, they were worse than women. Shrugging all of their romantic problems away, Owen decided to celebrate his last time of driving the SUV for a while – a given, now that Jack had returned – by breaking a few speed limits.

After all, they were Torchwood.

*       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *

 _ II. Something Borrowed _

It was all a normal day at the office for them, really. Seeing a fellow team member suddenly and unexpectedly impregnated – by an _alien_ – before crashing a wedding, trying to stop said alien's mate from tearing apart the whole congregation, and after blowing the Nostrovite into a million pieces, finally celebrating the previously interrupted wedding, as if nothing had ever happened.

Yep, just another day.

For Owen, especially, there was something just so comforting about the whole day having gone to hell – it felt like old days. Before... before he died. During the mad rush of blood and guts and murderous aliens and less than 100% reliable alien technology – during all of this, he was almost able to forget that he was dead.

And Tosh – quietly accepting his offer of a dance, treating him just as she always did. Owen didn't even care that much when he suggested he buy Tosh a drink, knowing full well that he would never be able to buy himself a drink ever again. The blinding smile on her face made it worth it.

Standing together in amiable silence next to the bar, Owen turned his eyes back onto the dance floor. There was Jack, with Gwen – no surprises there. Of course Jack, with his firm macho and traditional mindset, would be first in line to snag Gwen from Rhys. And – was that Ianto? Owen snorted. What on earth did Ianto want to dance with Gwen for? Not that Owen could speak, but Ianto didn't particularly seem like the dancing type.

But – ah. That explained it.

Ianto was dancing with Jack.

Owen felt a soft smile sliding onto his face before he quickly hid it. He had to hand it to Ianto – he really did have balls. Dancing, in front of everyone, when he hated to do so much as flirt with Jack in the team's presence.

However, the fact that Ianto was actually brave enough to go up to Jack and dance – not to mention interrupting Jack's dance with _Gwen!_ – wasn't even the most surprising thing to Owen.

No.

The most surprising thing... was Jack.

One of Jack's hands was cradling the small of Ianto's back, and the other clutched Ianto's own hand close to his chest. Matching this was the way their cheeks brushed against each other's, and how Jack's foot was nudging between Ianto's ever so slightly...

It was the perfect picture of... affection.

They graced slowly around on the spot, effortlessly in sync with both the music and each other. Jack's eyes were closed, his lips trembling into an achingly beautiful smile. It was completely mind-numbing to see such nakedness in his expression that Owen couldn't do anything but stare at them. Beside him, he sensed that Tosh was watching too.

The spell broke somewhat when Jack pulled his head back fractionally to press a light kiss on Ianto's forehead. Owen, who usually made a point of feigning disgust whenever Jack showed any romantic public displays, didn't look away – it wasn't a kiss of lust, or even anything remotely sexual.

It was... the exact opposite.

Owen shook his head and blinked, and decided he should really be annoyed at Jack and Ianto for making him feel compelled to watch them. But he couldn't muster the feeling. Instead, Owen turned to Tosh, and shared a knowing smile with her.

"Looks like someone's drunk some liquid courage tonight, then," Owen commented with a grin. Tosh gave him an exaggerated "Tut!" and didn't bother concealing her own smile at the sight of the pair. It was one of her secret smiles, like when she'd figured out something technologically brilliant. Owen wished he'd paid more attention to her smiles.

He made do with paying for her drink.

Tosh took her drink with a different smile – of thanks – and took a small sip.

"Almost makes you jealous, doesn't it," Tosh said softly, without any trace of jealousy. Without any remorse, even. "To see what they have."

Owen let his eyes flick back quickly to Jack and Ianto – back to their perfect dancing – and he gave an amused eye-roll. Jealous of the Tea-boy and the Captain... who would have thought.

On another day – a day where Owen would most likely have been injected with high doses of oestrogen, for all the soppiness of it – Owen might have admitted that seeing Jack and Ianto together gave him hope. Hope for the world. Hope for him.

But, of course, such a day would be unlikely to occur, and so Owen kept that particular errant thought to himself. It must be all this wedding stuff, getting to his head. He _did_ have a reputation to uphold, after all.

Instead, he just contented himself with a certain piece of knowledge.

Because Owen knew, then.

Knew that however rare it was to see Jack holding onto someone as if that person were his lifeline – his whole life – it did happen. Knew that amongst all the darkness that the Rift sent their way, somehow, impossibly, Jack still had it in himself to connect and melt and fuse with someone.

Owen knew that Jack loved Ianto, even if it was only visible as often as one woke up and found themselves nine months pregnant.

*       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *

\--End.


	3. Rhys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone knows that Jack really does love Ianto... except Ianto. A ten part piece detailing each character's realisation of this - Ianto being the last to know, of course!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by John Barrowman's version of 'I Won't Send Roses'.
> 
>  _And should I love you  
>  You would be  
> The last to know_

**Part III: Rhys**   
_  
I. Something Borrowed   
_

Rhys wasn't stupid.

Alright, so perhaps he wasn't the brightest crayon in the box when it came to romance – must be one of those Welsh bloke things, Rhys reckoned – but he'd managed to end up with Gwen, so he couldn't be half bad at the thing, could he?

That, and Rhys would actually admit to being a bit of a romantic at heart – for Gwen, at least. Couldn't say much for that girl who'd played rugby, that he'd dated before Gwen... ah, but he was young and inexperienced back then. Rhys had learnt a thing or two since – and here he was, bloody married!

Well, _just_ married.

But the point was... Rhys was in a uniquely qualified position to figure it all out, between Ianto and Jack. After all – Ianto _was_ another Welsh bloke. And that _look_ in his eyes felt far too familiar.

"Aren't you technically on duty, then?"

He and Ianto had settled in at one of the tables off to the side of the dance floor, the dancing still going on in strong force. Gwen was dancing with... the doctor, Owen – good bloke. Rhys was dead relieved, to be honest. He'd never been much of a dancer. Which was when he'd been approached by Ianto, who'd promptly pushed a beer into Rhys' hands – an identical beer in his own careful grasp – and led him to their current seats.

Ianto looked up at Rhys with a dry chuckle, a smile reaching his face but seemingly unable to last the distance to his eyes.

"We're always on duty."

Ianto's tone was so quiet, so sincere, that Rhys had to believe him. And he'd thought _Gwen_ was married to the job... as well as married to himself now, of course. Rhys drew in a breath and nodded at Ianto, not quite sure what else to do. Ianto wasn't what you'd call an outspoken bloke – despite that experience they'd gone through together not so long ago, what with being kidnapped and simultaneously threatened. You'd think something like that would make them best buddies, but no... perhaps they were all too used to it by this point, at Torchwood.

Kidnapping, threats? Hardly warranted a second thought.

Rhys cast his eyes out onto the dance floor once more – and there he was. Wasn't hard to miss, his great show-off coat flapping around. Jack Harkness was busy turning up the charm for some of Gwen's bridesmaids, their tinkling false laughter perversely catching the lulls in the music. But for one of the first times, Rhys couldn't rouse himself into any state of annoyance at the man – he _had_ saved their lives today, not to mention their wedding.

However, it seemed that Ianto didn't share his lazy contentment. If Rhys looked furtively enough, he was able to catch Ianto's eyes flickering over to the sound of Jack's drawls rather frequently.

Rhys sighed inwardly. Time to get to work then, eh?

"Gets around, Jack does," Rhys injected an amused note into his words, nodding in the general direction of the man. Ianto took a deep mouthful of his beer, his eyes now suddenly fixed on the tablecloth. He'd almost finished his beer – Rhys' was still half full. Couldn't have that. Rhys downed another gulp hastily.

"I suppose. But, that's just Jack." Ianto shrugged, giving Rhys another smile that didn't meet his eyes.

Rhys chanced another look over at Jack – he'd succeeded in luring one of the bridesmaids into a lively dance, the mega-watt smile firmly in place.

"True, that. He doesn't do things halfway, does he?"

This drew a small, but genuine, smile from Ianto.

"Quite the exhibitionist," he agreed.

They both sat quietly for a wee while – quietly drinking beer, quietly sharing the moment. Because Rhys hadn't been in such a dissimilar situation himself, with Jack, not long ago. Except it hadn't been Jack he was after, obviously. A guilty flash of sudden knowledge swept through his chest as he remembered the words he'd jokingly spoken to Jack.

 _Just wish you'd been uglier. You're not gay, by any chance, are you?_

But that was silly, Rhys hadn't shoved Jack from Gwen to Ianto. He'd seen their 'thing', even then, in the tiny exchanges between the two men... even as caught up as he'd been, with the fantastical world of Torchwood. Still reeling, even now. But even then... he'd guessed at the sight of Ianto's softened eyes, when Jack had made his more ludicrous remarks, guessed at the strangely foreign concern that Jack had shown after it was all done, at the sight of Ianto's injuries.

He'd guessed.

"Care for another drink?" Ianto asked as soon as Rhys had set his empty glass down. Ianto's own had been set aside for a good minute or so, but Rhys supposed that Ianto had deemed it impolite to get himself another without asking Rhys first. Always the professional.

"Why not," Rhys grinned at Ianto, and Ianto allowed one side of his mouth to quirk upwards as he scooped the two glasses into his hands. Hmmm. Not as graceful as he usually seemed to be, with even his walk weighed down by the slump in his shoulders. Perhaps it was best if Rhys did drink slowly, if it stopped Ianto drinking any faster than he already was.

It didn't surprise Rhys when Ianto returned to the table with a beer for Rhys, but a glass of what looked like vodka and some kind of mixer for himself. Rhys eyed Ianto warily as he drained a rather large proportion of it in one go. Christ, this was all Jack's fault – where the hell was he anyway? Rhys half-turned to see if he could locate him on the dance floor, but his vision was suddenly blocked. That bloody great coat of his.

"Whoever in their right mind left such a gorgeous sight sitting here without a dance partner?"

Rhys had to hide his eye-roll at Jack's words, but there was something different about him, now. His beaming grin had been replaced with a smaller but somehow more tender smile. Jack leant down to match Ianto's seated height, and met Ianto's half-avoiding gaze.

"I wouldn't say that he's often in his right mind, sir."

Ianto's voice was quiet, but the raised eyebrow that accompanied it also seemed to raise the mood, and Jack's eyes crinkled around the edges.

"I might have to agree with you there, Ianto Jones," Jack said softly, so that even Rhys could barely hear him, before he straightened up to stand in front of Ianto. "You wouldn't mind if I took Mr. Jones here off your hands, would you Rhys?"

Rhys really did roll his eyes at the wink that Jack gave him, and snorted out his laughter.

"Go for it. I'll survive, I'm sure."

Jack grinned as he held out a hand to Ianto – dramatic sod! – and Ianto carefully placed his hand in Jack's and got to his feet, his grace seeming to reappear. Rhys shook his head slightly and took a happy mouthful of his beer.

He'd guessed at it before, and all this was only helping his cause.

Because it hadn't escaped Rhys-the-Romantic's notice that despite all the flirting that Jack had been doing, Ianto was the only one who he had danced with twice.

*       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *

 _ II. Exit Wounds _

Bloody Torchwood, eh.

Rhys hadn't meant to get sucked into this whole debacle, but that _Captain John_ , whoever the hell he was – Jack's evil twin!? – had gone and taken their SUV, and his car was readily at hand. Although how they were all going to fit in there, Rhys had not the faintest clue.

"You sure you're okay?" a quiet voice said behind Rhys, and he couldn't keep himself from turning around. Jack was standing there facing Ianto, who was caught in between Jack and the car and seemingly unconcerned about the lack of distance between them. Ianto did, however, give Jack a small 'thwack!' on the chest at Jack's words.

"Stop fussing!" Ianto gave Jack a soft smile to take the sting out of his words. Rhys grinned to himself, and watched as Jack's hand wandered up Ianto's own chest, his fingertips just grazing Ianto's jaw-line.

Ianto cleared his throat before speaking again.

"You... you died."

It wasn't the words that gave Rhys such a shock – he'd _knew_ that he'd felt no pulse on the bugger's wrist! – but the way in which Ianto had spoken them. Not a question... a statement, one of concern, of sympathy. Jack nodded in response, and welcomed the gentle pressing of Ianto's lips on his own. Rhys averted his eyes with a grin, and made to get into the driver's seat.

"Oi! When you're ready!"

Rhys gave a chuckle at Owen's yell, and saw Jack and Ianto break apart in the side-mirror. With a grin, Jack directed Ianto into the backseat, who was to squish up against Tosh in the middle seat. Owen was beside her, supporting her injured arm, and Gwen was in the front seat with a tired but grateful smile for Rhys. Jack managed to squeeze in after Ianto, entirely too happy at the tight fit – no surprises there, then.

"At this rate, the whole A&E will be up in arms, all because you two wanted a quick grope," Owen quipped over Tosh's head. Rhys admired the way Ianto controlled his blush before it spread too obviously.

"Sorry Owen, I'll be sure to send you an invite next time," Jack winked, and sneaked his hand onto Ianto's lap to cover Ianto's own hand. "Put your foot down, Rhys!"

Rhys rolled his eyes at Gwen and began the drive to St. Helen's Hospital, the closest location. After Owen had made sure Tosh had enough painkillers, he departed, and they were able to spread out in the backseat a bit more – although Rhys couldn't miss the way that Jack was still pressed closely against Ianto.

"Hey! Not in my car, thank you!" Rhys shot a glare at Jack through the rear-view mirror after he'd caught Jack's hand moving somewhere that Rhys definitely did want to witness. Huh. Perhaps Ianto wasn't so good at keeping his blush at bay after all.

"Oh, love, it's like trying to tell Banana Boat to go easy on the booze – simply won't work." Gwen patted Rhys' thigh in sympathy, and turned her grin to the window.

"The world could be ending, and you want me to behave?" came Jack's drawl from the backseat. Rhys would have turned around to confront Jack properly but as he was driving – probably not the best idea.

"You better be bloody joking..."

Thankfully, they reached the Central Server Building where Tosh and Ianto were to be dropped off before Jack could try anything else. Tosh tactfully consulted her PDA with the utmost concentration as Jack got out of the car to make room for Ianto to exit.

"You know, although you do look good all messed up and dirty... just be careful, okay?"

Rhys didn't know if he'd ever heard Jack sound so serious, even when he was in full-commander mode. There was a short silence, and Rhys sneaked a glance in his side-mirror – ah. Their lips were locked, again. Rhys rolled his eyes, but didn't interrupt them. Why spoil their calm before the storm. He blamed that old Romantic inside of him.

"Make sure to say hi to Captain John for me."

Ianto's sardonic voice indicated the exact opposite sentiment, and Jack laughed as he hopped back into the car. His eyes met Rhys' in the rear-view mirror, and for a moment, both men held the gaze. Something seemed to pass through them, and as the previous grin on Jack's lips faded, a smile crept onto Rhys' face in return. Without a word, Rhys pulled the car back onto the road again.

It was as plain as the colours on the Welsh flag. Rhys could just see it – he knew, now.

Knew that Jack's bizarrely Welsh-bloke-like tendency to avoid talk about his emotions was a mere screen to cover it all – the great 'Captain' bravado, the innuendos – apart from creeping Rhys out, of course, it all had a purpose. Knew that in his own way, Jack _was_ trying to show what he felt.

Rhys knew that Jack loved Ianto – and thank god for that, for now he could stop getting worked up over every flirty comment Jack directed at Gwen. Or directed at himself, as a matter of fact.

*       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *

\--End.


	4. Gwen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone knows that Jack really does love Ianto... except Ianto. A ten part piece detailing each character's realisation of this - Ianto being the last to know, of course!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by John Barrowman's version of 'I Won't Send Roses'.
> 
>  _And should I love you  
>  You would be  
> The last to know_

**Part IV: Gwen**   
_  
I. Sleeper   
_

Gwen wasn't stupid.

All her police training, everything she'd been through – everything she'd _seen_ , with Torchwood – well, it had to count for something. Whenever she'd had one of those letters of recommendation written for her, or whatever, Gwen could guarantee that one of the words they'd use would be 'compassionate'. Through some twist of fate, she was uncannily brilliant at placing herself in someone else's shoes – at connecting with people, observing them... evaluating.

Especially when it came to her colleagues – specifically, Jack and Ianto.

In all honestly, it was probably surprising that she hadn't noticed before. It was all so damned obvious, now – but... before, when Gwen was wading her way through her first months at Torchwood... well. It was all so bedazzling, so engulfing – every revelation drowning her. Realising that Jack's attempts at flirting with Ianto ran deeper than light-hearted fun – it was just an observation that hid itself underneath layers of sex-aliens, child-stealing fairies and dead-but-returned-to-life ex-colleagues.

But now...

Those months when Jack had been away had cleared her head. Lack of those bloody pheromones of his, probably. Ianto had emerged from his shadow... and Gwen could see him. So, when Jack returned... she could see them both – _together._

"Gwen. Gwen?"

The gunshots were still ringing in her ears – oh god, so close – and Gwen idly ran her fingers through Beth's dead ones. Sticky. Blood, some part of her brain prompted. Beth's blood, not her own. She had Beth's blood on her hands – not just literally, either.

Sometimes Gwen really hated this job.

"Gwen. Look at me, look up, now."

Jack's voice. His hand had left her shoulder quickly, as if he knew that it wouldn't have the desired effect. Because nothing could fix this. Nothing could fix the fact that Beth – innocent, caring, _brave_ Beth – had sacrificed herself, lost the will to live. Gwen couldn't fix this.

Gwen didn't look up.

But – there was another hand on her shoulder now – slightly smaller, slightly cooler than Jack's, but somehow... more comforting.

"Gwen?"

A familiar Welsh accent curled around her name, and Gwen found herself raising her gaze from Beth's blood to look into Ianto's eyes. Ianto was crouching next to her, one hand still resting on her shoulder. The other was reaching down to her own, which was caught between Beth's fingers – stuck, trapped there – but Ianto pulled her fingers away, and grasped them.

"Come on."

Gwen let herself be pulled to her feet by Ianto, his hand moving to hover over the small of her back. Jack was a statue next to them. She wanted to avoid his eyes, but found that she didn't even need to try.

Jack's gaze was locked onto Ianto, and as they looked at each other an imperceptible nod tilted Jack's chin. An unspoken agreement passing between them. Trusting that Ianto could handle this. Jack stood to one side to let them pass – Gwen's skin didn't even tingle as her arm brushed his chest, numb as she was – and Ianto led her to the conference room.

It wasn't until Gwen had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and a warm cup of sweet tea cradled between her hands – free from blood, Ianto had seen to that – that she was able to attempt a smile for Ianto.

"Thank you, Ianto, for all this."

Ianto was settled in a chair next to her, leaning an elbow on the table and propping his head up with it. He inclined his head, gifting her one of his small, sympathetic smiles.

"That's okay."

Gwen took a sip of tea – god, how could Ianto be so fantastic at tea _and_ coffee brewing? – swallowing, trying to force the lump in her throat away.

"It's just... tough, sometimes. It's so..." Gwen let out a breath and shook her head. "So bloody unfair. You know? I mean... why her? Why did it have to happen to her?"

Her eyes were drawn to Ianto's Adam's apple jerking as he swallowed, and his near silent intake of breath compelled her to hide a wince.

"I – I'm sorry, Ianto – I didn't mean –" she hurried to get out, as Ianto blinked, drawing the shutters over his eyes in order to wipe them of the briefest flash of grief.

"Doesn't matter. I... I know, Gwen." He sighed heavily and looked up at her with clear eyes once more. "I know. We just have to... carry on, I 'spose."

Gwen fiddled with the handle of her mug, her cheeks prickling. She knew Ianto hadn't forgotten Lisa – would never forget her, in all honesty. But, at the same time... she knew that he _was_ following his own advice.

Carrying on.

Another sip of tea. The silence was disturbed by the clunk of her mug as she set it back down. Then, slowly, Gwen slid her palm along the table to rest in front of Ianto, imagining the blood staining her fingers, and twisted her wrist so that her palm faced upwards. Inviting. Ianto's lips quirked into a smile and he fitted his fingers between hers, lightly squeezing some warmth back into her.

Squeezing life back into her.

Somehow, Ianto seemed to know the exact moment that Gwen was ready to face the world again. He let go of her hand, rinsed the tea down the drain, and folded the blanket away.

"Jack probably wants to see you, to make sure you're alright."

Gwen nodded, and caught Ianto's forearm before he turned to leave the conference room.

"Ianto..."

She gave him the first genuine smile that evening, the gap between her teeth injecting feeling into the gesture – saying what words could not. But there was something that she _did_ have to say.

"You're doing well, you know – carrying on." Earnest, wanting to help him as much as he had helped her. "You... and Jack."

Gwen didn't miss the thrill that ran through Ianto's body at the mention of Jack's name. He looked as though he wanted to interrupt her, but Gwen wouldn't allow that.

"Honestly – he's... he's good for you, Ianto."

Another smile spread over her face, inch by inch, reflecting the fact that the truth of this statement was simultaneously sinking into Gwen – as if she had only just realised it as she spoke it.

Because it _was_ true – Ianto was out of his shell now, free from the shadow of Lisa's death and the shadow of Jack's negligence. And he was happy.

"Erm, yes, well..." Ianto cleared his throat, failing to stop a blush from covering his cheekbones. "Shall we?"

Gwen smiled to herself and let Ianto take her to Jack – her arm linked in his, just as Ianto had accompanied her out of the morgue earlier. The weight of Beth still dragged on her shoulders, but now... she didn't have to bear it alone.

After her brief conversation with Jack, she left the Hub with a clear head. Jack had unknowingly mirrored Ianto's sentiments... keep doing what we do.Gwen left with a regained perspective – and a growing suspicion about _those two._

Maybe she and Rhys _would_ set a wedding date tonight. Maybe not. Maybe they'd just go to bed – just carry on.

*       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *

 _ II. Adrift _

All those faces... all those names. All plastered on every inch of the concrete walls of Gwen's 'project room'. All scattered through time and space.

And now... all tucked away in a filing cabinet.

To be left alone.

Gwen couldn't bear to look at Jack, as she swept past him to make her way upstairs. Didn't want to see her own despair shining back at her – _damn_ Jack.

 _Damn the Rift._

Her frantic pace slowed as she reached the main Hub. It looked like Tosh and Owen had already left for the evening, which made things easier. Had Jack told them what she'd done? Did they even know about Flat Holm?

A rustle of noise captured her attention, and Ianto emerged from behind Tosh's desk, a half empty rubbish bag in hand. _He_ knew about Flat Holm.

"Gwen."

Ianto didn't sound surprised that she was still here. He lowered the rubbish bag to sit neatly on the floor, and took measured steps towards her. He had that small, sympathetic smile turned on again, that smile that Gwen couldn't help but respond to.

"Don't let me hold you up. Although, the place looks a right sight better than it normally does – perhaps Owen's taken to cleaning up after himself, now that he has more spare time on his hands."

Ianto gave a chuckle at her pained joke.

"One can always dream." He shook his head in amusement. "Are you... alright, Gwen?"

Gwen found herself unconsciously wringing her wedding rings around, and swallowed while trying to paste a smile on her face.

"I... you know. Getting there." She sighed silently. "I, uh, I'm sorry if I got you into trouble – with Jack, I mean – because of you giving me the coordinates to Flat Holm."

"Doesn't matter." Ianto took a step closer, so that Gwen could see his face more clearly. "I... think he knew that you wouldn't let it go." He smiled so as to soften his words, but Gwen's lips curled bitterly.

"I almost wish I had."

"You did the right thing, Gwen." His voice was barely louder than a whisper, but carried no less force due to this. Gwen had to take a steadying breath, and blink a few times, before replying.

"Thank you, Ianto."

Ianto shrugged it off, albeit accepting her words, and finally reached out to pat her briefly on the shoulder.

"And, er... I'm also sorry about _interrupting_ you, earlier..."

Ianto coughed a tad awkwardly, causing Gwen to now repress tears of mirth instead.

"Er, it's fine, we should have, er..."

"I'll be sure to knock next time," Gwen said, with the beginnings of a wicked grin lighting up her face – Ianto's incoherent mumbles making it even more difficult to contain.

However, Ianto was saved from having to come up with an answer as footsteps sounded from behind them. Gwen turned to see Jack standing at the other end of the Hub – and this time, she _did_ look at him.

Jack's whole body was slumping, and without his coat to hide this weight upon him, he emitted the feeling of a small, lost boy. Shadows danced over his face, but they were more than just the lack of lighting in the Hub – they were dark circles etched beneath his eyes, his brow pushing itself into wrinkles.

A shudder ran through Gwen. She felt Ianto run his hand softly up her arm before he removed it, and she met his gaze. Ianto's eyes seemed to hold snatches of the same shadows that darkened Jack's expression, but they also were full of something else – concern, determination, and...

Oh yes. Gwen knew _that_ emotion.

"See you tomorrow," she said quietly. Ianto nodded, and moved past her, towards Jack. Gwen stood still for a moment, and watched. Watched as Ianto reached Jack – standing closer to him than he'd been to her – and raised Jack's chin carefully with his fingers. Watched as they looked at each other for a long pause, before Jack's expression flickered in the _tiniest_ way – crumpled, before Ianto pulled Jack into a tight embrace right in the middle of the Hub.

It was... breathtaking.

Gwen shivered, not entirely due to the cold, and turned on her heel to leave them to each other.

Because that _thing_ that she'd seen in Ianto's eyes – in Jack's desperate clinging – Gwen knew what it was. She just knew it.

Knew that for all Jack's strong leadership, his heroic demeanour – oh yes, Gwen knew all about that – for all his talk of naked hide and seek, it was Ianto that he truly needed. She knew that without Ianto... Jack wouldn't be able to carry on. Plain and simple.

Gwen knew that Jack loved Ianto – and she knew that this was the way it was supposed to be. Besides, she had her own Welshman to be getting home to.

*       *       *       *       *       *       *       *       *

\--End.


End file.
